Instead, Caleb looked more frightened.
Everything appeared to match.
Relief should have followed.
Instead, Caleb looked more frightened.
“That says she’s ours,” the nurse said carefully.
Caleb shook his head.
“I know what I saw.”
“Give her to me.”
I held out my arms.
“Give her to me.”
Caleb crossed the room and placed the baby against my chest.
She was warm.
Tiny.
Sleeping through all of it.
She was somebody’s child.
That made the fear worse. She wasn’t a clue or a mistake.
She was somebody’s child.
“Call the charge nurse,” I said.
The nurse hesitated.
“Just so we can sort this out.”
“Now.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
She left.
Caleb started pacing.
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“What if I’m wrong?”
I looked down at the baby.
“I hope you are.”
I hated that part of me was afraid to hold her too closely.
“I stared right at it.”
“I know.”
“The nurse saw it too.”
“I know.”
The baby made a small squeaking sound and tucked her chin against me.
I hated that part of me was afraid to hold her too closely.
Then Denise turned to the delivery nurse.
A few minutes later, the charge nurse arrived with the nurse who had been in the delivery room.
The charge nurse introduced herself as Denise.
“Tell me what happened.”
Caleb did.
He described the birthmark and where he had seen it.
Then Denise turned to the delivery nurse.
The woman looked from Caleb to me.
“Do you remember the mark?”
The woman looked from Caleb to me.
“Yes.”
My heartbeat seemed to stop.
“Where was it?” Denise asked.
“Left side. Near the collarbone.”
No one spoke for a second.
“Did she leave this room?”
Denise checked the band without removing it, then checked the information in the chart.
“Did she leave this room?” I asked.
“For routine assessment,” the delivery nurse said.
“Where?”
“Down the hall.”
Denise’s expression changed slightly.
“It was busy. I’d have to check the log.”
“Were there other newborns there at the time?”
The nurse hesitated.
“One other, I think.”
Denise looked at her.
“You think?”
“It was busy. I’d have to check the log.”
Denise stepped into the hallway.
Ten minutes later, Denise returned with an administrator.
Through the partly open door, I heard her say, “Nobody moves either infant until we verify everything.”
Either infant.
Caleb heard it too.
He sat down beside me.
“There’s another one,” he said.
I didn’t answer.
Ten minutes later, Denise returned with an administrator.
I looked at the baby sleeping against me.
“There was another baby girl in the assessment area,” Denise said. “She was born shortly after your daughter.”
“Where is she?” Caleb asked.
“With her parents.”
“Do they know?”
“We’re speaking with them now.”
I looked at the baby sleeping against me.
“The band on this infant matches your records.”
“And the bands?”
“The band on this infant matches your records.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
Denise paused.
“No. It doesn’t.”
The administrator began explaining that they needed to review the transfer records, but I barely heard him.
The door opened behind him.
“Bring the other parents here,” I said.
“We need their consent before—”
The door opened behind him.
A woman stood there in a hospital gown, gripping the wheelchair armrests. Her husband was behind her, holding a bundled newborn.
“I told you something was wrong,” she said to him.
He looked shaken.
Marissa looked at me.
“I know.”
Denise moved toward them.
“Marissa, this is the other family I mentioned.”
Marissa looked at me.
Then at the baby in my arms.
Her eyes filled immediately.
“My mom knitted a pink cap for her.”
“What did you notice?” I asked.
She swallowed.
“The hat.”
Caleb frowned.
“What hat?”
“My mom knitted a pink cap for her. The nurses put it on right after she was born.” She pointed toward the baby her husband carried. “When they brought her back, she had a hospital cap instead.”
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“I thought maybe I remembered wrong.”
Her husband lowered his eyes.
“I told her someone probably changed it.”
“I thought I was exhausted,” Marissa said. “I thought maybe I remembered wrong.”
Caleb stood.
“Can I ask you something?”
Marissa nodded.
Her husband’s arms tightened around the baby.
“Can you check her left shoulder?”
Her husband’s arms tightened around the baby.
No one moved.
Then Marissa slowly pulled the blanket aside.
Near the baby’s left collarbone sat a small, dark oval.
Caleb made a sound that was half laugh, half sob.
Every part of me wanted to reach for that child.
“There.”
My vision blurred.
Every part of me wanted to reach for that child.
I didn’t.
Not yet.
Denise spoke before anyone else could move.
The hospital drew samples for an urgent parentage test.
“We are not going to exchange the infants based only on physical marks.”
“Good,” I said.
Marissa nodded immediately.
“Test them.”
The hospital drew samples for an urgent parentage test while administrators reviewed security footage, transfer logs, and the staff members who had handled both babies.
One look at her face told me.
Until the results came back, each child stayed with the family currently holding her, under supervision.
Those hours were unbearable.
Caleb kept staring toward the hallway. Marissa cried twice. I tried not to wonder whether I was comforting her daughter while she was comforting mine.
